Pilgrimage
by Teanni
Summary: What if Spike had run off to Rome to go and see Buffy without telling his girlfriend back in L.A. She certainly won't sit around and mope. Sequel to 'Little Soul Lost', but can also be read as a standalone. SpikeOC Please drop me a view lines, R&R.
1. Off, off and away

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything from the WB's television series 'Angel'. All those pretty shiny characters - such as Spike, Angel, Wesley, Fred and Lorne - belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon. The only thing that belongs to me is Lisa and the part of the story line which isn't based on season 5. This story was purely written out of fan appreciation and because I enjoyed doing it. So please don't sue.

Lisa sat in her chair, comfortably leant back, her feet on top of her desk. Her eyes were fixed on the panoramic window that stretched over the entire left side of her office. She wasn't looking at anything in particular, just enjoying a brief moment of relaxed contentment. A happy smile briefly flitted over her face.

It was an ordinary day, just one of many, but right here and there she felt very much at ease with herself and with the way things had turned out. She was doing fine at university, her job at Wolfram & Hart gave her the feeling of doing something useful with her life, plus it provided a comfortable financial bolstering. But that wasn't the reason for her unusual cheerfulness. Who was she kidding? She was in love and it felt damned good.

At first it hadn't seemed like an awful clever idea hooking up with a vampire. Well, she probably would never introduce him to her parents. Not that Lisa thought that her mother would appreciate the thought of her daughter having a relationship with a man who looked like Billy Idol, not to mention that he was a notorious chain smoker. On a second thought maybe she should arrange a meeting just to enjoy the shocked looks on their faces.

Lisa briefly shook her head. Still smiling inwardly at the idea, she finally returned to the case she was just working on. She put on her reading glasses scanning the pages in front of her attentively. An old hospital full of ghosts, my oh my, that sure was trouble. Not the best recommendation for the doctors working there. A case of that size she had to run by the boss, so she stuffed the papers back into the manila folder and left her bureau.

Her heels clicked loudly on the stone floor when she casually walked by Harmony's desk, briefly calling out, "Here to see the boss. Should be quick." Lisa registered the blond woman getting to her feet from the corner of her eye, but didn't stop walking. She was already through the door, when Harmony came up behind her. The office was empty. Strange. It was a Monday. The busiest day of the week.

"Where is he?" she turned around looking at Harmony questioningly.

The other woman made a point out of slowly brushing a strain of loose hair out of her face. After she had done so she carefully inspected her fingernails as if it was something of high importance which required her utmost concentration.

"Harm!" Lisa rolled her eyes. It was no secret that she and Harmony detested each other.

"He's out," the secretary answered smilingly.

"Well, that much I could already deduce from the empty room, thank you," Lisa crossed her arms over her chest. "Care to be more precise."

"You don't now, do you?" Harmony's smile even broadened a little bit, if that was still anatomically possible. "He and Spike flew off to Rome," the pleasure of being the one to deliver the news was clearly audible in her voice.

Lisa's yaw literally dropped. "To Rome….," she gulped. "What!"

"You heard me right."

"What in hell's name are they doing in Rome?"

"Oh, let me see if I remember correctly…. I think it had to do something with Buffy. They seemed to be in such an awful hurry. Left without even saying goodbye," Harmony was enjoying herself immensely, her cheerfulness reverberated in her voice and gave it a certain squeaky quality.

"Buffy! He... They ran off because of Buffy. Both?" Lisa said unbelievingly.

"Yes, your Spikey is gone. Off, off and away."

* * *

Rome, the fucking city of fucking love. Lisa slammed the door of her office behind her. How could he do this to her? Did the time they spent together mean nothing to him? Well, it certainly looked that way. 

She tried to calm her flaring temper, but wasn't quite able to. She kicked against the leg of her sofa in frustration and drew in a sharp breath, when her toe immediately started throbbing with pain. There she was Lisa Gray, twenty-two years of age, servant of the mighty Osiris, big-ass psychic and necromancer, shacking with anger and hopping around on one foot. Great! Did she happen to mention that her lover ran off to help his ex-girlfriend out of some kind of trouble she had managed to get herself in?

What now? First of all she ripped the silver bracelet from her wrist, Spike had given her just a week ago. It had felt special - as if his gesture had actually meant something. Like a ring you wore it signalled something to the outside world – belonging, but maybe she had misinterpreted his gift. Maybe it meant nothing at all… Lisa briefly looked down at the piece of jewellery as it lay there in her hand -innocently gleaming in the light – then she threw it away. It bounced several times on the floor, than started to circle before it finally lay completely still. That was the precise moment she had an epiphany. What if Harmony had just been messing with her? Was she just trying to push her buttons?

She started pacing, slightly dragging her sore foot behind her. But what if she has told her the truth? Well, it certainly wouldn't allow her to have a good night of sleep anymore. She wouldn't just sit there bawling her eyes out, like a girly girl. No way in hell! Lisa stormed out of her office. She was going to take a little trip to Europe.

* * *

"I know why I am on this plane, but what on earth are you doing here?" Angel looked at Spike incredulously. 

The blond vampire rolled his eyes in frustration. Admittedly he had already posed himself the same question several times in the last hours, but then again there was this little voice in the back of his head that was nagging at him not to let Angel come out the winner this time. He had stopped kidding himself about it. As Lisa had so neatly put it a couple of days ago, Peaches and him wouldn't even stop competing if someone came along and broke every bone in their undead bodies – for a lack of better opportunities they would probably start a spitting contest then. She was right about that. It seemed very probable. But this, right now, was not an ordinary thing…This was about Buffy. So letting Angel gloatingly celebrate a triumphal victory in Rome was out of question.

"Me? I'm here for the drinks and my usual place in the front row, from where I can see you fall flat on your ass," he answered for a lack of a better retort and threw back another mini-bottle of whiskey. He made a face, "Can't even get drunk off those."

"You know what I meant. You've got a girlfriend and still you're sitting on this plane complaining about your inability of getting inebriated."

"Oh, look who's talking," Spike's eyes narrowed. He was getting annoyed, "If I recall correctly there is this bint named Nina…you know the one who almost ate you up when you were this wee little puppet," he just loved to rub that one in, "Must not be all that serious."

"Same goes for you, buddy," Angel grinned at him maliciously.

Uncharacteristically Spike didn't respond to that. He turned his head and stared out of the little oval window beside him (which was of course vampire proof). White clouds formed a fluffy white carpet below them like the ones on which you sink in when you walk them barefooted. Could he still be riding that plane if he really loved Lisa? Right now he had no answer to this dilemma, maybe it would come along the way.

Something landed in his lap. His head immediately turned around. It was another tiny bottle of whiskey.

"To us being jerks," Angel toasted at him and swallowed down the contest of his bottle in a draught.

* * *

Several hours and many, many coffees later Lisa was standing in front of an apartment in Rome, repeatedly hitting the doorbell underneath the little sign that cheerfully announced the name "Summers".

"_Un' attimino_ (Just a minute.)" a male voice answered from inside and shortly after a young man with tousled blond hair opened the door. He looked slightly dorky, but maybe it was just on first impressions.

"_Buona sera, signorina _(Good evening, Miss)," he said with a heavy American accent.

"Yeah, good evening to you, too," Lisa had picked up enough Italian on her travels, to understand him. Though her irritation had slightly lessened on the flight, there was still plenty of it to go around and it slightly increased in vehemence due to her exhaustion.

"Hey, you're American, too… What do you want?" his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"I'm Lisa Gray. I don't think my name will mean anything to you, but I'm looking for Angel and Spike," Lisa wasn't much for beating around the bush, especially today. Was it even today given the different time zone? Oh, what the hell!

He stuck out his chin at her, "How do I know your not one of those who have sworn to serve the dark side of the force?"

Lisa sighed, "Cause I'm not wearing an oversized black helmet and I don't have respiratory problems?"

"So you've mastered the skill of sarcasm…but that won't get you past….hey!" Lisa had just shoved him unceremoniously back inside the apartment and stepped over the doorstep after him.

"I have to warn you. I may not look it, but I've already slain several demons with these hands," he raised his fists.

Lisa was tempted to ask how many exactly and whether they tripped into his sword, but decided to hold her tongue in check just this once. "I'm sorry, but this is urgent."

"Yap, as if I hadn't heard that phrase a hundred times before…"

"Okay," Lisa let out an exasperate groan, "Actually I'm just looking for Spike."

"Fascinating. Why would that be?" he cocked his head and squinted, apparently trying to look enigmatic. His attempt failed. Instead he just looked like he was terribly short-sighted and in dire need of a pair of glasses.

"We have an important…thing…there's a thing I have to talk about with Spike," she stuttered inelegantly.

"Really?" for some reason the young man seemed to find her explanation amusing.

"Yes, you wouldn't by any chance have seen him?" somehow coming here had sounded a better idea on the plane. Her left foot started tapping.

"I have…. You don't look like one of the bad guys," he observed after scrutinizing her carefully. Lisa raised her eyebrow at that. She always thought that her extremely pale skin and dark hair positively qualified her as looking….differently.

"Well, it would just be too obvious," he smiled at her. She couldn't help it, but somehow she was starting to like him. Maybe it was her up to now undiscovered maternal instincts kicking in or because she could relate to him, from freak to freak.

"Oh, and by the way I'm Andrew," the young man added.

She nodded at him in acknowledgement.

"Have a seat," Andrew slipped back into the role of the self-confident host. "Buffy and Dawn are out. Angel and Spike passed by only twenty minutes ago…"

"Oh," that seemed to be something she said a lot these days.

"It might be interesting to you, since you're so eager to find Mr. Bleachblond, that Buffy is out on a date," Andrew informed her while he handed her a glass of water she hadn't asked for, but which she thankfully accepted.

"She is?"

"Yep, with the Immortal," a long pause followed.

"So you and Spike….you are an item?" Andrew wanted to know, not being able to hide the curiosity sparkling in his eyes.

"I don't see how this should be of any concern to you. Since neither Buffy nor Spike are here I might as well leave," Lisa answered brusquely.

"No, you stay. Andrew has a certain nag for fixing problems with _l'amore _as the Romans say," he leant back on the couch opposite of her with an air of cockiness – somehow it didn't fit him.

"Hmmm….Alright," it wouldn't hurt if she stayed here a few more minutes, after all she didn't have any place to go. Lisa hadn't thought of booking a hotel thanks to her hasty departure.

"Why did you come here?"

That was really an excellent question, considering the fact that it was so hard for her to answer. Why was it again she had come? To talk Spike out of still loving Buffy? That sounded even ridiculous to her own ears.

"Well?" Andrew was still waiting.

"I didn't want to sit around in L.A. constantly thinking about what might happen…," it was always best to stick with the truth. She had learned as much in the past. Lisa massaged her temples tiredly. The caffeine was starting to lose its effect. Damn! She felt like run over by a truck.

"I think I can tell you what will happen," Andrew smiled at her smuckly. "Angel and Spike will chase after Buffy, which will result, of course, in nothing, because she has already moved on."

"I thought he did, too, but apparently I was fooled."

"Maybe you're not. Buffy still means a lot to both of them. She's been their guide on the stony path towards redemption, the north star that helped them set their course…" he made a theatrical hand gesture.

"Yeah, for Buffy!" Lisa mumbled ill-humoredly. "He still did run away without telling me."

"Look, if you want to wait up for Buffy…she might be able to help you, smooth things over..," Andrew told her patiently. He made Buffy sound like some of those shamans, who could heal by touch. Unfortunately it wasn't as easy.

Did she really want to wait for Buffy to come home?...Lisa honestly didn't know. Somehow it just seemed too grotesque of an idea.

"I suppose you have no place to crash, right? You could stay here, I'm sure they wouldn't mind," Lisa highly doubted that Buffy wouldn't mind her sleeping on her couch.

She pondered for a while on the thought whether it was a clever idea talking to Buffy about her problems. Maybe it would help deconstructing the myth that surrounded her. No human being could possibly be that perfect...

"I think I'll just stay until either Spike or Buffy will come around here, but thanks for the well meant offer anyway," she said courteously.

"You can watch some T.V. while you wait. I have an appointment with two very lovely _signorine_, they should be here any minute now," he stood up straightening his clothes. "And if you touch my Star Wars collectibles while I'm away, your dead," Andrew added on an afterthought.

Lisa just smiled and raised her hands defensively. Funny, he didn't seem worried at all that she would clean out the entire flat as long as she kept away from his toys.


	2. Meet his ex

It must have been about 2 a.m. in the morning, when Lisa was startled from her sleep by the sound of keys turning in the lock. She looked around in disorientation. Where the hell was she? Her neck felt stiff and she was sleeping on a couch. Not L.A. Oh, right! Rome!

The sound of two female voices came closer, both seemed to be engrossed in a vivid conversation.

"No, Dawnie, I think you should keep away from this Antonio guy. He comes across kind of greasy. There's something about him I don't like…"

"But he's so cute. Why do you always hate the cute ones?" the other voice whined.

Lisa could virtually hear the other woman smile, "Because I'm your older sister and I…," she stopped talking, when she saw Lisa sitting on the couch.

"I'm sorry. Andrew let me in," Lisa hurried to explain she didn't fancy getting her ass kicked by a pissed of slayer.

The older of the two sister, presumably Buffy eyed her over suspiciously. She had long blond hair, her skin was slightly tanned and set off nicely against her classy, yet figure-hugging white dress. Damn her! Bully for Buffy for still looking good after a night of clubbing - not a hair out of place.

"Who are you?" the blonde vampire slayer asked, while her younger sister looked at Lisa interestedly, standing a little behind her sister. She radiated a strange mixture of self-assuredness and goofiness that was so typically of teenagers.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Lisa Gray," she got to her feet, "I work for Angel." She extended her hand to Buffy as a greeting.

"Which actually means your working for Wolfram & Hart," Buffy's eyes narrowed. She ignored Lisa's out-stretched hand. Not a good start.

"Yes, but it's not like you think. I'm not part of the whole evil, demonic machinery. I was hired by Angel and apart from that I wouldn't do anything that goes against my ethics."

"You're still taking their money," Buffy retorted.

"We all have to make ends meet."

After an awkward pause Buffy finally asked, "Why are you here?" her voice sounded slightly hostile.

"I'm here…," Lisa hesitated. Could she really do what she came here for? Did it matter? She didn't even know these people and would probably never see them again in all her life if things went well…

"I'm here, because I wanted to talk to you. Spike ran off, so you're the next person in line," Lisa looked at her vis-à-vis expectantly.

"Does this mean that..?"

"I'm his girlfriend? Yes, I'm afraid so." Lisa tried to read the look on Buffy's face. Was she shocked?

"Oh, dear," apparently Buffy suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to sit down. "Dawn, would you please go and check if we still have a bottle of that Chianti? I think I might need a sip of wine while we talk."

"So I wasn't just hallucinating when I thought I saw Angel and Spike tonight. Alessandro told me they were here. So those two started the fight inside the club..," the blond vampire slayer muttered to herself. "They are such jerks!" she added a little louder, indignantly shaking her head.

"The reason the doofus duo is here is that they have to recover a head for the resurrection of a demon client, did you know that?" the vampire slayer added finally.

"No," Lisa replied amazedly. So they were actually here out of business reasons. Who would have guessed?

Dawn finally arrived with a tray on top of which she balanced three glass of red wine. She carefully placed them on the table and then sat down next to her sister, "Have you already say something important?"

"Nope, I've only realized once more that all men are idiots," Buffy informed her.

"Oh," Dawn smiled, "Well, duh!"

"You don't seem surprised Spike has turned from completely dead to undead," Lisa noticed sipping from her wine.

"We have our sources," Buffy answered calmly.

Was that all she was going to say about this matter? Wasn't she the least bit bugged Spike hadn't called or dropped by to tell her about his miraculous resurrection?

"Seems like you don't give a damn," Lisa observed putting the glass back on the table.

"Oh, believe me I 'did give a damn' just not so much anymore when he didn't feel the need to let me know," Buffy replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I mean it would have just been decent, after all we've been through."

"Yeah, the decent thing to do…I see," Lisa pressed her lips together tightly. So the blond vampire slayer wasn't actually as unfazed by Spike sudden appearance in Rome as she had initially appeared to be. There were still some feelings…at least it seemed like it.

"After all we've been through as _friends_," the blonde vampire slayer hurried to add. Buffy pronounced the last word very empathetically.

"Look, I'm tired, I've just crossed a couple of time zones so I'll get right to the core of this," Lisa massaged her temples exhaustedly, "I'm not stupid. I don't think it is a very good sign, when your boyfriend leaves without so much as a word, to go see his ex. It just gets a girl thinking…does he still love her? Does she want him back?...You know all sorts of crazy things," the young woman smiled, but her eyes were absolutely humourless as she fixed her opposite taxingly.

"I do not want him back," Buffy protested vigorously – perhaps a little bit too much.

"But the thing between you two isn't through yet," Lisa observed. For a fraction of a second she actually hesitated, then she got up and straightened her crumbled clothes.

"What are you doing?" Dawn asked.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm leaving…shouldn't have come here in the first place."

"So you're going to your hotel?" Buffy's sister wanted to know

"Sort of," Lisa answered already walking towards the door.

"Well, it's been…," Lisa hesitated. Saying that this visit had been even remotely pleasurable would been like actually calling a trip to the dentist fun. She settled for something less grotesque. "It's been interesting."

"Look," Buffy sighed and got to her feet, "I'm not posing a threat to you. I don't want to steel your boyfriend if that is what you think. It's just well…Spike and I…we've been through a lot together. These are things you don't brush off so easily."

Lisa's features softened a little. Buffy's words had actually sounded sincere "I'm sorry, but maybe I just need some time to cool down. My day hasn't exactly been a walk in the park. Call me if you have any news on the fanged duo," she handed the vampire slayer her business card with had her cellphone number on it.

She was just about to leave, when the shrill ringing of the telephone broke the tense silence of the awkward situation she was just about to walk away from. Lisa heard Buffy pick up.

"_Pronto _(Hello) Oh, it's you," her voice suddenly seemed softer, but its tone changed to concerned only seconds later. "Hold on, what did you just say?...Zombies...I'll be with you in a minute… No, like I gonna let you have all this fun on your own! It's a good thing you called me."

"What is it?" Lisa turned and looked at the slayer questioningly.

"Alessandro just called. He knows where the demon head is," Buffy informed her briefly, grapping a black training bag that until now had sat beside the door unnoticed.

Without hesitation the words, "I'll come with you," slipped from Lisa's mouth.

"No, you won't. No offence, but I don't see how you could be much of a help," the slayer's voice sounded very much down to business.

"Well, just a little hint – I'm a necromancer and you apparently have got a zombie problem on your hands," Lisa smiled at her cockily, feeling happy to be able to burst her bubble.


	3. The Graveyard Shift

They were hiding behind a mausoleum. Buffy and the guy called the Immortal were talking strategy while Lisa watched them interestedly from a few meters distance. They had greeted each other with a brief kiss on the cheek, which hadstrangely outof place in this dark and dang cemetery with the scary moans of the undead floating on the night breeze mixed with the clipped orders of the demons who were roaming the perimeter.

Lisa cocked her head to scrutinize the man more closely. The second she did it she realized it was a mannerism she had picked up from Spike. His name echoed in her mind and she couldn't help but wonder where he was right now. This Immortal guy certainly wasn't her cup of tea. He looked like one of those muscled men who leer down at their avid female readership from the cover of sometacky romance novel.

He seemed to have noticed her inquisitive stare and turned his head to favour her with a mischievous wink, much to Buffy's dismay. Lisa shrugged her shoulder nonchalantly, as if she wanted to say, "What the hell do I care?"

The slayer waved her closer with a sour look on her face. Apparently it was now time to talk tactics. "You better stay her. This way we won't have to worry about you," her words were well-meant, but also contained a considerable amount of arrogance.

"See, I'm not so much of a fighter, but I'm good at my job. Let me take care of the zombie problem and the conjurer, while you get back the head from the demon guys," Lisa suggested.

"_Cara _(My dear), I don't see any harm in letting her do it," the Immortal laid his hand on Buffy's shoulder in a soothing gesture.

"Alright. Fine! Do your thing. Just don't get yourself killed!" the slayer said before she disappeared in the dark, shortly after followed by her lover.

Lisa got to her feet as well and slowly, but steadily sauntered out from behind their hiding place. She had done this many time. It was like walking into a cage full of tigers. You had to keep your calm or the beasts would eat you alive. Fear made zombies go into a killing spree. When she had finally rounded the mausoleum, the battlefield came into full view. Someone had messed badly with the balance of things; a fact which made Lisa unconsciously frown in discontent.

Buffy and her lover were currently fighting their way through a small army of living corpses. About a dozenzombies had been called from their graves, all in various states of decay. The first time Lisa had seen a zombie she had reacted by spontaneously emptying her stomach contents on the grass. With time every lost its terror even staring death quite literally in the face.

Lisa drew out her dagger and put its tip to the open palm of her hand. Only the ever so slightest pressure let the blood flow from the newly created wound. Blood magic was the oldest and most powerful magic of all. She muttered a little prayer to Osiris, asking for his assistance in the task that lay before her.

Slowly she walked up to the zombie closest to her. Its clothes were torn and hanging from his shrivelled body in rags. Judging from the fabric and its colour it were the tattered remains of an once elegant suit. The hair on his head look dusty, much like straw on a scarecrow. He turned around and stared at her with hollow eyes, seemingly mesmerized by the presence of the young woman. His body swayed back and forth ever so slightly. Skin as thin as paper stretching over bones, all water drained from this corpse. There was disbelief and something like silent accusation in its eyes. She stretched out her hand and lay it on the bony shoulder. The smell of decay invaded her nostrils, but she did not flinch, did not budge an inch. "Rest," Lisa said softly and the zombie collapse, simply fell down on the earth like a discarded doll.

When her attention shifted from the corpse she had lain to rest to her surroundings she noticed Buffy looking her way with an appreciative glance. The blond woman briefly nodded at her before she focused her attention on the demons that were overlooking the whole scene from their place on top of a nearby slope.

Lisa continued her way in the same fashion she had begun and with every touch of her hand a zombie was put back to eternal sleep. The worrisome thought that this conjurer would eventually turn out to be a tougher nut to crack than your average-Joe-necromancer briefly crossed her mind as she walked across the lawn. If he had been powerful enough to raise this many zombies it meant that he was at least her equal. Maybe Lisa had taken her mouth a little bit too full once again or maybe Spike's cockiness had been rubbing off on her. She brushed the thought off like a buzzing fly, it made her uncomfortable even to think of him right now. It was neither the time nor the place.

She stopped briefly…that had been the last zombie. Apart from the distant fighting noise that came from the other side of the slope, that was where the demons had retreated, the graveyard was engulfed by an eerie silence. Lisa grabbed the hilt of her dagger that was still in her hand a little bit tighter. Think, old girl, think! Where would you go if you wanted to survey the whole situation yetkeep enough distancenot to be dragged into something as nasty as a physical confrontation? She scanned the perimeter with squinted eyes. Unluckily Lisa had forgotten her glasses. Being short-sighted and the greyish darkness that surrounded her, didn't add up to the success of her mission. There was a huge gravestoneon top of the hill – maybe there. That was at least the place she would have chosen. As silently as possible the young woman approached the spot.

Coming closer and closer the gravestone turned out to be something like an obelisk. Lisa noticed the conjuration circle on the floor at once. The necromancer had to be close by, but where? She didn't have much time to think about this question, when suddenly she heard a twig snapbehind her. Lisa swirled around, the adrenalin rushing through her system like electricity bolts. Hand to hand combat was not her area of expertise and although she had been taught by he-she-currently-wanted- neither-to-name-nor-think-about, she was still a lot of moves away from being quite menacing. She exhaled –it had been false alarm.

So there she was. Still alive, which was a plus. The traces proved that a ritual had been performed here probably just a couple of minutes ago. Dried brownish spots of blood dotted the grass and were even visible in the twilight, the lifeless bodies of two chickens lay carelessly discarded on the graphite pedestal of a nearby statue, their heads bent back in an unnatural position. Slowly it began to dawn on Lisa that she had come totally unprepared with no weapon to defend herself except that ceremonial dagger, no backup…nothing. The thing was that the dagger was with exception of the tip totally blunt. It was not meant to serve as a weapon, at various occasion she had used it as letter opener, but that had nothing to do with the problem at hand…. She was screwed. Suddenly it seemed very likely that she would end up like those poor birds. Not a very encouraging prospect.

Her heart began to speed up and her mouth went dry. The rustle of foliage behind her announced the presence of another person or creature or whatever it was that roamed the graveyard at this nightly hour. Again she cursed herself and her stupidity, this time a little bit more emphatically.

"I owe you respect," Lisa said, with her back facing the newcomer. Still she made no effort whatsoever to turn around. Her strategy basically consisted in trying to act as if she had the situation absolutely under control, which would buy her some time to come up with a plan. Of course, it was all a bluff. She only hoped that the other conjurer would not realize it too soon.

"Respect where respect is due," female voice answered in heavily accented English. Lisa could hear the sound of fabric brushing over the blades of grass as the other woman rounded her. She was not yet in her range of vision.

"Excellent work…take it as a little compliment from one expert to another. But demons? I mean seriously…you could make so much more money if…"

"Oh, believe me the pay was more than sufficient, but maybe we should renegotiate later, because of the addition trouble you're giving me," the 'r's were rolling of her tongue very strangely. The conjurer was now leaning against the statue casually. Her composure radiated confidence. The moonlight shining down on the scenery gave Lisa the opportunity to scrutinize her vis-à-vis more closely. She didn't seem very threatening. Lisa figured she could take her on, when it came to a physical confrontation. She had to be at least one head smaller than her. Of course, it was hard to make a correct estimation about that, because the hooded cloak the other woman wore did not only hide her face, but also neatly covered up any weapons that she could be carrying.

"I was not planning on giving you any trouble," Lisa raised her hands defensively, trying hermostconvincingsly smile. "The thing with your zombies…well, that was nothing personal. I just don't fancy being killed."

"You turn up with the slayer and the Immortal and you expect me to believe that that doesn't mean any trouble?" the conjurer let out a disbelieving chuckle, which didn't sound very friendly. Lisa saw the other woman's hand move under the cloak. She is probably reaching for her weapon, a strange tingle in the pit of her stomach told her.

Out of mere instinct she ducked and not a second too soon. From the corner of her eye she saw the metallic glint of a gun and shortly after a bullet whistled over her head. Great, a necromancer with firepower. 'Enough to make my day perfect,' Lisa thought as she quickly dived for cover behind a nearby gravestone.

"Not playing by the rules are you?" she called out to the other woman. "Neither am I," Lisa added under her breath. She pressed her still bloody palm to the floor and quickly whispered the words: Bind her.

A hollow moan filled the air and Lisa could hear the earth cracking up where her adversary stood. She risked a brief glance over the edge of the gravestone and saw two skeletal hands shoot out of the ground were the other woman stood. They grabbed her tightly around the ankles, immobilizing her temporarily. The woman let out an angry howl which filled Lisa with a mixture of relieve and pride.

"You're a vile coward. A shame to our trade," the enraged necromancer screamed.

"Our trade? I beg to differ, what I do is not about dark arts, but about restoring the balance. And I don't think it's cowardly to doge bullets, just proofs that I don't think I'm Supergirl."

"You know that these bounds won't hold me much longer and when I get free I'll…," her voice suddenly died away and shortly after a loud thumping noise could be heard.

"Bad guys…all talk no substance," a voice, which Lisa recognized as Buffy's, said casually.

Lisa stood up slowly- not without a certain sense for the theatrics- and brushed off the dirt from her clothes. "About time," she mumbled grumpily, "I told you I'm not a fighter." The blond slayer looked at her, grinning smugly in response, whichmade Lisa curse inwardly. The fact that the Immortal turned up beside Buffy added to her dismay. Somehow she couldn't stand this guy. What ever happened to dying honourably in battle? Guess that's why they call him the Immortal, 'cause he keeps coming back and back and back…Lisa sighed. How frustrating.

"So what are we going to do about the trigger-happy necromancer lady?" she asked finally.

The Immortal grinned, "She's human so killing her is out of question, but I've already got some ideas about what to do with her," he drew out his cell phone, pushing a button on speed dial. Lisa didn't understand the conversation that followed, because it was conducted in Italian, but from his tone of voice she understood that he was talking to an official.

"What was that call about?" Buffy asked, when he seconds later he put the phone back into his pocket.

"I've called the police and informed them, of course, anonymously, that I heard a gunshot coming from the cemetery. They won't like what they'll see. Defiling graves in Rome of all places…not a very clever thing to do."

"Do you have the head?" Lisa asked matter-of-factly.

"We're all set," Buffy held up an old-fashioned black leather bag, that looked like it could house at least a bowling ball…or a demon head, Lisa added in her thoughts. "But before you go all buff on us, I'd like to have a word with you."

"But first of all we should get out of here, before the police arrives," the Immortal interjected.

"Agreed," Lisa nodded.


	4. Revelations

He opened the bag andlooked down on its contents incredulously. Red digits counting down. Counting down from 4. Bugger! No time to throw the damn thing away, no time to get away from it. He just stood there looking rather comically, while stared at the countdown ticking down. Wam! The sound of the explosion almost made his eardrums burst, like hot dragon breath the destructive power of the detonation swept over his body and singed his clothes. He was catapulted back a couple of meters and crashed into a parked car. Spike slowly slid down its side and landed on the floor with a pained groan. The smell of burned textiles and flesh invaded his nostrils. He waited with his eyes closed for the pain to subside, not daring to move until his vampire healing powers had taken care of most of the damage.

He told himself to focus on anything, but the feeling of his burned skin and the prickling sensation as it began to grow again and heal. A name emerged from his subconscious, the one he had guiltily tried to ignore and ban from his mind in the last couple of hours. Lisa...the smell of lavender, laughter, kisses…those thoughts only summoned up melancholy. Somehow now it felt like his wounds were hurting a little bit more instead of healing. He winced and drew a sharp breath. What was he doing here again? For a moment he could actually remember what he had come for. Buffy? Or was it just his reluctance of letting Angel better him in anything? Maybe…Probably….Certainly

His musing were cut short by the gradual awareness of his situation. Spike suddenly remember that he was still lying on a Roman piazza with debris from the explosion covering him, surrounding him. This was a public place. It would have been hard to overhear the detonation. They should better get out of here before the police would arrive.

He moved his fingers probingly – it didn't hurt. The pain had finally subsided and he opened his eyes, started to move, even stood up. Parts of his clothing peeled away from him - stripes of leather, dark jeans fabric. Instead of cursing he just watched, strangely mesmerized. The handle of the bag was still in his hand, but the rest of it was missing. He let it slip from his hand. It had gotten irrelevant among so many other things. Spike suddenly felt homesick.

* * *

"You've got an hour, after that she has to leave to make it to her rendezvous with those two fanged fools," the Immortal honoured them with a mischievous grin ere he walked towards the door of Buffy's apartment.

"Honey, I told you to not call them that," Buffy tried to sound stern, but inevitably the corner's of her mouth twitched.

"See you later, amore," he called out before he closed the door.

"So, that leaves just the two of us," the slayer stated the obvious. Her gaze fell one the bag standing next to the couch on which she sat, "actually the twoofus and the head," Buffy added, her voice trembling the tiniest bit with suppressed laughter.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" Lisa blurted out impatiently.

"Spike."

"Mhm, sure..," it seemed hard to believe that the slayer suddenly wanted tolayher mind open to her, given the fact that they were far away from being even remotelyfriendly.

"Do I have to remind you that it was you who came knocking at my door?" Buffy crossed her arms over her chest in defiance.

"No, I'm well aware of that, I'm just surprised that's all," Lisa admitted truthfully.

"It's not like I could talk about those things with my family or my friends," the slayer told her almost ashamedly, purposefully avoiding the other woman's gaze.

"And you think I'm the right person for this?" Lisa's voice involuntarily rose a pitch out of sheer incredulousness.

"I figure it might help us both. I could get some things off my chest and you would get some answers," Buffy looked at her as if she expected her to say something.

"I understand," Lisa said pensively. "I promise I'll stop being a bitch and just listen," she said softly after a while.

"Fine," Buffy take a deep breath. Apparently it really took her some effort to actually start talking about her past, "Angel was my first love," she commenced hesitantly, "What I felt for him was very intense, all Romeo and Juliet like, because of the curse, the air of mystery that surrounded him, the vampire thing…Well, basically him," Buffy sighed. She now looked rather tired, much older than in her early twenties. It was something about her eyes. "Being a slayer is sometimes the worst job in the world. I had to kill him to stop an apocalypse from happening. Did you know that?" Of course Lisa hadn't known. It wasn't like anyone had told her.

"Well, never mind. That seems so long ago now anyway, after all that happened."

"I'm sorry."

"Bad things happen; it's what we have to live with," Buffy got distraught by looking at the two half full wine glasses that still stood there one the table. The way the light broke in them, it made the liquid inside sparkle like rubies, it almost had the colour of blood. Crystal glasses full of blood how very much cliché.

Lisa half expected her not to continue talking anymore, but finally the blond woman continued.

"Something died inside of me that day, but I never had the time to find out what it was exactly. I was always on patrol, always busy with fighting the next big bad and on my free time I had to deal with everyday life. That sounds so utterly depressing, but it was just what it was nothing more and nothing less. I had very little time for myself, very little time to reflect on who I was and what it was that I wanted. So I never got around to finding myself."

Lisa felt the need to ask what this all had to do with Spike, but she had promised to be nice, so she decided to shut up and listen. She just hoped that they would be able to get through with this in an hour, given the fact that Buffy had suddenly become so talkative.

"You're probably asking yourself why I keep on jabbing about myself." Bingo, Lisa thought.

"Because that's why it didn't work out with Spike. I never knew what I wanted, so I ended up using him. Not my brightest hour, but to my defence I have to say that the using bit that was going on…that was kind of mutual. He didn't have a soul back then," Buffy's forehead wrinkled at the memory of those days. She preferred not to think of it.

"Fuck buddies," Lisa stated seemingly emotionlessly, although each word felt like a stab to the heart.

"Fuck buddies with the benefit that I could load on him all my emotional baggage, all the stuff that had been bottled up inside. Well, I was just back from the dead, but that's no excuse really," her voice sounded strained, as if by saying those words aloud she was beginning to realize some very important things about herself.

"And after he got his soul back?" Lisa inquired.

"After that we finally managed to become friends. Very slowly, because the fact that the First used him as a puppet didn't add to Spike's mental sanity, but after that we finally started to trust each other. We never got past the level of being friends, though I told him that I loved him. It was not really love or at least the kind of love he would have wanted me to feel for him, I realize that now. Not as deep as he felt for me."

Lisa gulped. Suddenly her throat felt very dry. It was hard hearing those words uttered from another woman, especially Spike's ex-girlfriend.

"When I last talked to Angel I told him I was cookie dough," she smiled wistfully, "that I was not done baking, that I had not yet found the real me. Kind of a bad metaphor, huh?"

Lisa had to smile involuntarily, "Sort of, but it served its purpose I guess."

"Yeah, it did," Buffy smiled. Her posture had changed since they had started talking. First she had sat very upright on the couch to the point of seeming stiff, but now she looked more relaxed. She had crossed her legs and had made herself comfortable, half lying half sitting on the sofa. At some point she had kicked of her high heels and as her gaze fell on her bare feet she wiggled her toes playfully. Her mood seemed to have lightened up considerably.

"You could say that I'm in the baking process right now. Things are looking up, since I finally managed to let go of the past or better reflect on the mistakes I made back then."

"Does that letting-go thing also involve Spike?"

"Yes, it does," the slayer smiled at her. "In a sense we did each other good, while being all wrong for each other at the same time."

"Sounds complicated."

"It was, very much so. And what about you two? Are you happy?" after what Buffy had just told her she was certainly entitled to ask that kind of question.

"I guess it's never easy, but I think I am happy. Of course, not when he jumps on a plane and flies to Europe without telling me, but the rest of the time I'm happy."

"I'm glad to hear that," Buffy sounded sincere. For a moment silence filled the room. "I think you have to leave now. You've got an appointment with two handsome gentlemen," the slayer smiled at her encouragingly.

Lisa nodded and got up. She grabbed her coat and bag and slowly walked towards the door. Behind her she heard Buffy's bare feet pad over the carpet.

"Thanks for the talk," Lisa turned around to face Buffy. For a moment she felt was unsure what to do, but than she felt a sudden wave of sympathy for that woman she only knew a few hours. She gave her a brief hug and felt silly for it only seconds later as if she was trespassing the unwritten law of "thou shall not like your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend".

"Thanks for listening, I guess. It was kind a nice…getting to know you. Weird, but nice," Buffy said with a friendly smile.

"Likewise. Well, maybe…you know…" What she wanted to say was that maybe if circumstances had been different they might have actually become friends.

Buffy seemed to have similar thoughts, because she seemed to get the hidden meaning between those few stammered words. "Yeah, I know…," she answered finally, "Have a safe trip home. I hope things turn out okay with Spike."

Lisa nodded at her briefly and turned to walk out of the door. It closed behind her with a soft click, not a bang, it just closed, that was all. She smiled to herself and started walking down the corridor.


	5. Talk is cheap

Angel and Spike were trotting over the manoeuvring area of the airport towards the hangar where their private plane was waiting. The bitch black of the night sky had turned to an intense dark blue which was slowly fading to ultramarine, but neither of the two men paid any attention to it. Their little trip had certainly been a disappointment. If anyone wanted to verify the way in which Murphy's law operated on a daily basis their trip to Rome would have been a perfect example. Besides receiving their fair share of beatings in a couple of fistfights, they had also been tricked, ridiculed and on top of that blown up. The latter had resulted in the destruction of Spike's beloved leather duster, which had been a faithful companion for over 30 years… Not to forget that they didn't get what they had come for: the demon head.

They entered the plane an slumped down in their respective seats without taking a look around. All they cared about momentarily was getting home as soon as quickly. Home, where they still had the upper hand and they didn't make fools of themselves. Had they looked around, they would have noticed the young woman comfortably sitting in one of those bolstered leather seats with a huge bag on her lap.

"Tough night?" she said with a sadistic grin on her face, savouring the reaction her unexpected appearance evoked.

Angel flinched slightly, then glared at Spike accusingly like an angry father would do with his child who had gotten himself into trouble despite all well-meaning paternal advise. If he only knew she had taken the Wolfram & Hart's other company plane to get her. She would save that bit information for later. Spike's reaction, on the other hand, was that of pure shock. His eyes protruded comically, while he was gaping for air he didn't need. She enjoyed seeing the look on his face. He deserved feeling like that after what he had done to her.

"You?" he finally managed to get out unintelligently.

"Yes, it's me. Yes, I'm mad as hell and yes, that's the demon head you've been looking for," she shoved the bag into Angel's hands and stormed off to sit down a few rows away from the two vampires. Lisa didn't care much for talking to Spike right now. She'd probably try to stake him or worse. There were certain things a necromancer could do to a vampire…

Ere she could trail further down that gruesome line of thought her musings were interrupted. "Pet!..." Lisa heard him call out. He had already started walking in her direction.

"I don't want to talk to you right now. I might say some things I'll regret later," her voice grew fainter and sounded much more vulnerable, when she uttered the next words, "You've hurt me."

From the expression on his face she could tell he had heard her words. It was a mixture of helplessness and anger, maybe it was directed against him, maybe against her. She didn't care. Due to the lack of sleep, she hadn't rested in the last 48 hours, everything was comfortably wrapped in a blanked of callousness with anger stuffed underneath that only emerged when she was provoked, the rest of the time she was too exhausted to really feel anything at all.

"Just go and sit with Angel. We'll talk back home….eventually," Lisa said tiredly. Spike turned around reluctantly, not without throwing a last look over his shoulder ere he walked back to his seat.

* * *

When Lisa awoke she felt slightly disorientated. Where was she? This was not Wolfram & Hart's plane. She was lying in a bed. It felt familiar – at home? The young woman briefly opened her eyes and found her suspicion verified. She was indeed lying in her own bed, but how had she come here? That question was as quickly answered as the first one. Her gaze fell on a pair of dirty boots that were stretched on the carpet beside her bed, their owner sat on a chair next to her bed and was stark asleep. When she looked at him she felt a paradoxmixture of anger and tenderness, the amount of anger was, of course, disproportionately larger than that of tenderness. Luckily he had had the decency not to undress her or else he would have increased her wrath. Smart boy! 

Lisa sat up in bed and turned towards him. "Wake up." No reaction. "Wake up!" she raised her voice so that she almost screamed. Finally a reaction. His head shot up, he looked around frantically as if scanning the room for an unexpected intruder, when he saw it was just her and calmed immediately.

"I didn't ask you to carry me here," Lisa stated simply, "If I recall correctly I wanted to be left alone."

"I didn't want to wake you. You looked like you needed a nap," Spike replied simply.

Now what was that supposed to mean? Was this is gentlemanly way of saying that she had looked like crap, so he let her sleep in the hope she got better soon? She let out an angry huff, but refrained from making any comment.

"Pet…," he stretched out his hand to caress her check, but she recoiled from his touch. The hurt in his eyes didn't satisfy her in anyway. It just left her with a cold feeling in her stomach and knots in her throat.

"Look, I just wanted to…," he started softly.

"Don't you dare apologize to me right now!" her voice slightly quivered with suppressed rage. "An apology won't be enough this time. You don't know how it felt learning from…Harmony of all people that you had simply hopped on a plane to Rome without telling me….Because of Buffy."

"I didn't think…I just…," his words just ebbed away. His eyes focused on her, then wandered here and there, unable to hold her gaze.

"Did you find what you were looking for there?" she asked him sadly.

"No," Spike ran his hand through his hair exasperatedly. He didn't want to argue. He just wanted to tell her how much he loved, that he had realized the thing with Buffy belonged to the past, but he couldn't. Not right now! Not when she was so furious. He suddenly couldn't stand sitting down anymore. He jumped to his feet and started pacing.

No? What the hell was that supposed to me. Was that even an answer. Lisa chest was rising and falling in rapid intervals, her cheeks were slightly flushed. She was somewhere between crying and screaming. Her heart was beating inside her chest like a war drum – she could even hear the blood rushing in her ears. She kicked back the comforter with an angry movement and got to her feet as well. Now they were on eye level again.

Lisa ragged her brain for the right words to say, but unfortunately they wouldn't come. As she was incapable of voicing her thoughts or saying what it exactly was she expected from him, she realized that it was rather senseless to continue the discussion. "I'm sorry, but I just can't do this right now," she looked at him in exasperation.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked looking at her in a mixture of defiance and vulnerability.

She hesitated, "We could talk later…tonight? If that's alright with you."

"Okay," Spike answered finally. He grabbed his duster and started walking towards the door.

When he had left, Lisa simply stood there for a while. Her eyes focused on some point on the wall. Somehow she felt empty- as empty as pumpkin that had been carved out for Halloween. She probably looked just as scary, but this was no time to be concerned about outward appearances.

Her throat felt dry. As if running on automatic she started making her way from her bedroomto the kitchen to get something to drink. On the way there bare feet stumbled over something plastic. As she looked down she noticed a videogame that lay carelessly discarded on the floor. Lisa picked it up and looked at it in strange fascination. Then the memories started rushing back:

_She hated hospitals with a passion that was almost unnatural. Of course, everybody did, but nevertheless every time she went there, she felt as if she needed to puke. There was only one occasion on which it was a nice experience going to a hospital – a birth(preferable of someone else's child, mind you, because she suspected it was rather painful), but that was it period. Otherwise it was all about sickness and death, the stench of disinfectant hovering through the corridors, old people in wheelchairs, cranky looking nurses._

_Luckily this was Wolfram & Hart's own little private infirmary, so visitors were spared most of the usual hospital atmosphere. Still she felt uneasy about coming here. Fred's brief call during which she had only learned that Spike had been injured, but not what had exactly happened, hadn't actually inspired her with feelings of inner calm. She was nervous and worried. What corridor was it she was supposed to go to again?_

_She finally arrived at the right door. Or at least she guessed it was the right door, since Angel was just stepping out of it. "How is he?" she asked impatiently._

"_Unusually pensive," Angel answered and merited her with a brief, but encouraging smile. "But the usual pain in the ass," he added in an afterthought._

"_So that means I can go in?" her hand was already resting on the doorknob._

"_Yes, go ahead," he motioned her to enter, ere he turned to walk down the corridor. _

_She gave the doorknob a determined twist and stepped inside. Lisa was not prepared for the picture that awaited her inside. Spikes hands were completely wrapped in bandages and he looked uncharacteristically pale, as if he had sustained excessive blood loss. There were all sorts of machines that either were lighting up every other second and making peeping noises. The transfusion beside his bed was slowly dripping a fluid into the tube that ended in his left forearm. He seemed a lot smaller, less self-confident - strangely fragile. She gulped heavily and couldn't bring herself to move for a couple of seconds. He saw her standing in the doorframe motionlessly and threw her an apologetic grin, as if to say, 'I didn't plan on that to happen.'_

_Lisa finally overcame her daze and walked up to his bedside. She reached out to touch him, her hand briefly hovered over his before she realized that it probably wasn't such a clever idea, so she hesitantly laid it on his shoulder instead and leaned in to kiss him quickly on the forehead. _

"_You're determined on giving me a hard time, eh? I'm already trying to get used to you getting your fair share of bruises on a weekly basis, but this is…this is kind of hard to digest," she gave him a sad smile._

"_I know, pet. I just didn't expect the bint to be so eager to get a piece of me…actually two pieces," he tried to handle the situation with humour, though this experience had been one of the worst of his life. Losing his hands…he didn't knew if he had been able to put up with that. When he had looked at the two bleeding stumps where once his hands had been, it had felt like his mind congealed in shock. Useless…that was the word that repeated over and over in his thoughts. Luckily Fred's team had been able to patch him up. _

"_Does that mean she actually…," Lisa's voice died away, the thought was too terrible to be spoken out aloud._

"_Yup," he raised his chin stubbornly._

_Her lower lip slightly quivered, but she didn't allow her emotions to overcome her. The situation was already bad, she didn't want to make it worse for him by crying. "I'm sorry," she finally said, her voice hoarse and slightly shaky. _

"_I'll be okay," Spike told her reassuringly. "Fred says I'll heal up completely. The feeling will return after a while, I'll just have to do some exercises to make sure I regain full mobility." When he looked at her he saw the sadness shining in her eyes, though it didn't show on her face. She was trying to be brave for him and he suddenly felt angry for not even being able to take her hands or caress her. He glared down at his bandaged hands hostilely. _

"_Hey," Lisa carefully sat down at the edge of his bed and lifted his chin with her hand, her touch was tender and reassuring. " You'll be okay. We'll get trough this," she told him. _

"_Guess so," he gave her a weak smile. _

"_Besides you just qualified for your own private nurse who will take care of you 24/7. If that isn't something...," she tried to cheer him up._

"_Who did you have in mind?" he asked innocently._

_"Seems like you're already feeling better,_ _" she cocked her head ( a mannerism she had picked up from him) and looked at him with a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes._

"_Yes, ever since you walked in," Spike answered truthfully._

_Lisa scooted closer and hugged him, careful not to touch his injured hands, "I always feel better when I'm with you." After she let go her eyes were kind of watery, she quickly blinked to suppress her tears._

"_What kind of exercises did Fred have in mind anyways?"_

"_Don't know," he shrugged his shoulders. "Something like squeezing somebloodyhand grips… science girlwasn't all that specific about it. Probably doesn't know herself, since vampire medicine isn't her area of expertise, not thatwas anybody's."_

"_Hmmm, what about we try something unorthodox like a gaming console?"_

Lisa put the game down, careful to lay it on the spot from where she had picked it up like a relic.


	6. Cryptic messages

Somehow she hadn't been quite sure he would come back, but when he stood at her doorstep she felt very much relieved.

"Can I come in?" he asked with awkward politeness.

"Do you want to?" she answered uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah," Spike smiled at her nervously and walked past her following her invitation. He stepped from one foot to the other uncomfortably, and then decided on sitting down on the couch. Tense silence ensued and stretched on to the point of becoming embarrassing.

"I've seen Buffy," she suddenly blurted out and immediately regretted it.

"You did what!" he blinked in astonishment.

"Oh, don't act so surprised. When Angel talks about her his eyes get all misty…and every time her name is mentioned you two start beating each other up…She was like some mystical creature…a frigging vampire slaying fairy. It's only natural I wanted to meet her."

"And?"

"She seemed nice. We've talked… It helped me figure some things out, clear my head," she didn't know what he expected her to say.

"Good," his eyes fell on her wrist, noticing the absence of the bracelet he had given her. It felt like someone had hit him in the stomach. It suddenly made him realize the seriousness of the situation.

"You said you didn't want me to apologize…I won't," he started clumsily.

"You what! You won't!" she was already at her feet, her eyes sparkling dangerously.

Uncharacteristically this time he was the one of them to remain calm. "Yes, but before loose it, let me explain," he grabbed her wrist and gently pulled her back down.

"Fine, I'm listening," she crossed her arms in defiance.

A couple of seconds passed, which he spent desperately searching for the right words. He suddenly felt cramped, so he took off his duster and laid it down beside him. Lisa let out an exasperate huff, thinking that he was doing it to buy some time, which was partly the truth…then her gaze fell on the coat. Something was strange about it. It looked different. Ignoring the baffled look he shot her, she grabbed the piece of clothing and ran her hands over it curiously. The edges were not worn away, the lining was completely intact. It was brand new! She looked at him in disbelief.

"What happened to your old coat?" Lisa asked completely stunned.

"I got blown up. There wasn't much left of it except for a couple of lousy shreds."

"And you're actually this calm about it?"

"Sometimes you have to let go of old things," his gaze bore into her with unexpected intensity and made her shiver ever so slightly.

Lisa knew what those words meant, but still she needed him to say it out loud, so that she could believe it and had something to hold onto. "I understand," she answered.

Then at the most inopportune moment, because Spike had already opened his mouth to speak, her cell phone started ringing. She mentally tried to silence it, but it merrily continued its nerve racking onslaught on their ears. "Sorry," she muttered and picked up the telephone from the table to silence it immediately. Just out of habit her gaze automatically fell on the display – the number of Angel's office blinked repeatedly on the display. "Shit!" she cursed out loud. "I'm so sorry, but I do have to get this, it's the office."

"Peaches," Spike growled, clenching his fists unconsciously the second the other vampire's name slipped from his mouth.

"Yes," her voice sounded rather annoyed, when she answered the phone, a fact that Spike noted with satisfaction. "Can't this wait till tomorrow? I'm actually in the middle of something…Yes, he's with me…No, we're not and for your sake I'll try to forget you just said that," Lisa rolled her eyes. "Fine, but that means you'll pay me over-hours plus an extra bonus, understood? Great! I'll call you when it's done."

She threw the cell phone on the couch with a contemptuous gesture.

"So?" he asked with a sour look on his face. His anger was more directed against Angel than anybody else. They had nearly managed to make up and right at this very moment this stupid bloke had to call. It couldn't have waited 5 more minutes. Bollocks!

"His highness wants us to go to the cemetery were a horde of ghouls has broken loose and is currently munching merrily on the poor custodian. We're supposed to stop them before they decide the town is a better place to snack, _if_, here I let me quote your beloved sire, _and only if_ we could actually stop humbling each other like hormonal teenagers for a minute," her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I so want to kick his ass for that."

"Well, guess who's next in line," he sighed.

* * *

A couple of minutes later they arrived at the cemetery. The wheels of Lisa's car came to a screeching halt and the loud music inside the car died away, when the engine stopped running. It had been the only sound on the way here, since neither of them had been very talkative. 

"Okay, let's talk strategy," Lisa said, leaning back in the driver seat. Her eyes were fixed on the large iron door that formed the main entrance of the cemetery. It looked very much like a grinning mouth with gigantic teeth, which was not such a bad metaphor after all. An ironic smile spread on her face. After all it was eating something. It was constantly swallowing up people, dead people.

"There isn't much to talk about. We go in, we smash, we leave, end of the bloody story," he fingered with the lighter inside his pocket, the cigarette was already clenched between his lips.

"Except if we find the spot where the ritual was performed – this way we could save us a whole lot of time, but until we get there, we'll go with your plan. You remember what I told you about ghouls, right?" she fixed him with her eyes intently.

"Brain's the size of a pea, hungry all the time. Humans and everything else that moves equals nummy little treat. Yeah, got that covered, love. But there is a thing I never got though…"

She gave him a pointed look, thinking cynically 'just one thing?'

"A couple of words to those zombie blokes and they get all nice and sleepy, but you can't do the same for our pea-brained friends? I mean…come on..."

"Before I'd get as far they'd probably be chewing on my arm. Undoing someone else's magic can be pretty tough; it might actually take some time. So we stick with the plan, alright?"

"As long as I get to hit something," he shrugged.

"Chances are pretty good."

They got out of the car. He lit his cigarette. The usual ritual – she didn't want him to smoke inside the car, because she said the seats would absorb the smoke and the interior would smell like an ashtray for weeks.

Lisa opened up the trunk and rummaged through its contents. "Sword or something heavier?" she offered casually. Angel loved sending Spike and her on those little extra fieldtrips. And she could imagine why. It was basically his way of getting rid off the blonde vampire for a couple of nights, so that he could recover from his constant company. Of course, since Spike and her worked together on a regular basis, the trunk of Lisa's car had gradually changed into something which resembled a mobile armoury suspiciously.

"Nah, I'll go with the sword," he said and took one last drag of his cigarette ere he brutally extinguished its glow underneath his boot.

She shrugged, handed him the requested weapon and closed the trunk.

He arched his eyebrows at her, "No sharp and deadly toys for you, luv? You know we've got plenty to go around," he stopped in front of the gate to observe it more closely and consider how to get in.

"I'll be fine. I don't need one. I've got you, after all," she answered after while. The first friendly thing she said to him in days. If he thought about it more closely, it had actually sounded like a compliment.

"That you do, love. That you do," he admitted softly. Could that mean that maybe…? He turned around as if to verify the expression on her face corresponded with what she had said. Lisa was smiling at him. It was a small step, but it was something. At least now she didn't look anymore like she wanted to stake him on the spot.

He experimentally tore at the heavy iron lock that secured the gate. "You know we never got to finish that little talk of ours…," Spike said casually.

"Yes, unfortunately," she sighed and stepped beside him. Was it unfortunate they hadn't managed to make up yet or that she hadn't been able to rip his heart out by now? Her hand touched his, when she motioned him to let her handle the door. It stayed there a little bit longer than it would have, if had it just been a casual touch. So it was that kind of 'unfortunate'. He grinned in relief, which passed Lisa by because she had already started fumbling with her picklock.

She was pretty good at it; an ability which might have caused any other man some worries, but not Spike. It was nice to be occasionally reminded of the fact that underneath her all-time-in-control-routine there was actually a wilder side which could easily be stirred if you just knew how. The lock was open in no time.

"You're lucky to have me, because without of me, you would be standing here all night," she called out over her shoulder as she opened the gate.

"Don't get me wrong, kitten, I'm grateful, but I could have jumped over the wall, you know…being a vampire and all," he casually shouldered his sword and strode after her.

She made a face, but refrained from commenting his last remark.

The cemetery seemed suspiciously quiet. Before them the way climbed a little slope and from its peek one could overlook the whole area. Graves and Crypts were arranged by pure chance, not thanks to any careful planning from a landscape architect. A couple of trees here and there completed the picture.

Lisa looked around with squinted eyes to get a clearer view of her surroundings. Her endeavour was rendered slightly more difficult by the fact that the scenery was only light by moonlight and that she was short-sighted.

"Forgot about your glasses again…that right?" he winked at her conspiratorially.

"Will you tell me already what you see or do I have to buy you a bow, tights and a blond longhair wig first?" she answered trying to seem gruff, though their banter made her feel oddly good-humouredly. Their interaction had started to become almost normal again

"Since you've asked so nicely…there are actually a few beasties down there…"

His words died away. Spike suddenly felt the pressure of her hand on his arm. It held on to him in a vicelike grip. "There is one behind us," she whispered at him, her wide eyes trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

"How close?" He didn't need to ask how she knew. As a necromancer she could sense stuff like that.

"Not close enough yet. Let's pretend we haven't noticed. I'll let you know when it's time," she told him in a low voice.

"Not yet," Lisa could feel the muscles underneath his coat tense, "almost there," a twig cracked very close behind them, "Now!"

With a fluid motion Spike whirled around and neatly embedded his sword in the ghoul's skull. The creature let out a surprise squeal, which unfortunately was very loud –and could probably be heard all over the grounds – then it slumped to the floor unceremoniously. Its ugly visage seemed to be the morbid parody of a human face. It was strangely contorted and bestial, governed by an unnatural wildness. Filthy dark hair sprouted from its head and rags were hanging loosely from its body. The hands – or claws, to be more precisely, were clenching and unclenching in final tremors. They stopped when he retrieved his weapon with on forceful pull. Spike looked at the blade disgustedly and then wiped it clean on the grass.

"How many did you count?" Lisa face had grown uncharacteristically pale.

"A couple of them."

"How many!"

"Ten maybe," he said unaware of the danger they were in.

"Ten! They are going to hunt us…a pack…we have to get out of here," she already started moving towards the car.

"What's the sudden rush about? We did manage to kill the last of them pretty easily," he told her lightly.

"Back then they were only three. That's less complicated, but a whole pack…we can't handle them with just a sword… that's suicide," Lisa now pulled at his arm with a certain vehemence. "Move!" she yelled at him, starting to panic. She could sense the beasts getting closer, alarmed by the call of their fallen comrade and the smell of blood.

They started sprinting in the direction of the car and inwardly Lisa spoke a prayer of thanks to whatever god that listened for letting her decide to wear her running shoes tonight. She could hear the sound of her own heart beat inside her ears – it made her nervous. They probably wouldn't make it to the car. Without having to turn around she knew that the ghouls were gaining on them. For that estimation it wasn't necessary to have any kind of mystical abilities, a proper sense of hearing was enough; the slurping sound that stemmed from the creatures' feet and hands, as they moved very much in an apelike manner, which looked clumsy, but was rather effectively, could hardly be overheard. Now her fear had become a certainty: They would not make it!

Spike seemed to assess the situation similarly. His eyes searched their surroundings frantically. A couple of meters from them there was a crypt. It was built as a smaller verisimilitude of a Grecian temple with the difference that it had a heavy iron door in the front. Maybe if they were lucky it was unlocked…

He grabbed Lisa's hand and dragged her towards the crypt. She followed him blindly, trusting that he knew what he was doing. Lisa could hear the angry growls of the ghouls behind them, as they made one last effort to catch their pray before it was able to escape. Only a couple more steps…then they would be at the door. Spike started pulling at it desperately, which made them lose precious time, but it finally gave away. It opened with a protesting squeak. Lisa was literally hurled inside. Her landing on the stone floor was rather ungentle, then she was suddenly engulfed by total blackness. She heard something huge collide with the steely solidity of the door – it sounded like someone was beating on a tin drum with a gigantic drumstick. "Spike?" Lisa called out into the dark timidly. She wasn't sure he had made it inside. The last couple of seconds had been a blur.

"Present," she heard him answer and immediately felt very much relieved. His voice sounded slightly strained. The scraping of boots on the floor was clearly audible, coming from the general direction of the door. He was probably trying to keep it shut by leaning against it. Lisa followed the sound, walking blindly through the darkness. Her outstretched hand finally connected with his shoulder; from there it searchingly strayed down to the pockets of his duster.

"As much as I appreciate the thought, but right now is not time to get all touchy-feely," he said between clenched teeth. It took him quite some effort to keep the door shut, as the ghouls were constantly throwing themselves at it with the patient, but stupid stubbornness only dead things could have.

She didn't deem his comment worthy of a reply, instead she continue her search, which was finally merited with success. With a triumphant laugh she produced the lighter and instantly its little flame radiated a small cone of light. They were standing in a circular room. Its walls and floor were made of marble, which had become dull thanks to the dust that had settled on it in the course of many years. No one had been here to grieve the loss of the deceased for a long time. In true mock Grecian custom there were four torches positioned on strategic points of the circular room. Tacky – that was the word she had been searching for in her head. Lisa's eyes fell on the two crucifixes that stood on each side of the entrance. They were made of bronze and not fixed to the floor. They most certainly didn't go with the general décor, though she was happy they were there. It seemed they had not run out of luck yet.

"Sorry, God," Lisa said ere she grabbed one of those crosses, "but this is kind of an emergency." She saw Spike briefly flinch from the corner of her eye, but this wasn't the time to be considerate of his natural aversion to crucifixes. The lighter went out. She got to her knees and inspected the little crack between door and floor, carefully holding the small flame of the lighter directly in front of it.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Spike called out. The ghouls were still coming at the door and he wouldn't be able to last much longer.

"I'm saving your sorry ass, honey. What did you think?" she positioned the cross in front of the crack and pushed until it was positively stuck. It was working like a door stopper. She did the same with the other cross, but this time she placed it right in the middle of the door.

"Very clever," he said appreciatively.

"Thanks," he heard her voice answer from nearby. Since the lighter had gone out again Spike could only guess where she was. He registered her move in the greyish twilight of the room, though, which was seconds later illuminated by the flickering flame of a torch. She held it in her hand like a weapon. "Now let's see if the door holds. Step away!"

Spike cautiously retreated from the door until he stood next to her. Their eyes were fixed expectantly on the entrance. A new assault came, followed by the sound of a body hitting the door. It did hold.


	7. No smoking

Lisa suddenly felt drained. With slurping steps she dragged her tired body towards the round chamber, put the torch back into its holding and then sat down on the floor to gather her strength. Spike followed her example. He sat down opposite of her, leaning casually against the wall.

She just stared ahead for a while without really thinking anything. Her mind seemed to be filled with monotonous buzzing. There was something she needed to do, but she couldn't quit put her finger on it. Suddenly it came to her. They were trapped inside here, they needed back up. She pulled her mobile phone from her pocket and pushed a number on speed dial.

"What are you doing now?"

"Calling Angel," she informed him curtly.

"And how exactly is this going to help?" he sounded a tad bit irritated.

"Sssh," she motioned him with her hand to be quiet, "Yeah, Harmony it's me. I have to talk to Angel. No, it can't wait. It's urgent. No, don't put me on hold. Don't! Can you believe this she actually put me on hold!" Lisa looked at Spike incredulously. A few second passed, "Angel? Great! We're in kind of a situation right here….yes. There were to many of them. Yeah, we're fine….Right…Okay, we'll wait. It's not like we would be going anywhere, sitting around in this crypt. It's the one with the drooling ghouls in front…just in case you wondered," she switched the telephone of and stuffed it back inside her pocket.

"Didn't go as expected?"

"He'll get to us eventually. Seems we're not his top priority right now. Sounded busy," Lisa answered grumpily.

"Figured as much," he mumbled between clenched teeth.

Silence settled inside the crypt and no sound could be heard except for the loud bounding against the metal door that came in regular intervals. It echoed in the round chamber whenever the ghouls made a new attempt to forcefully enter Spike's and Lisa's hideout.

"Wanna talk?" Spike suggested after a while.

"What about?"

He let out an ironic snort. By now he had gotten to know her quite well. It was the same old routine then, not that he minded, actually it was sort of fun. First there came stubborn, then irritated ( that was the phase he liked the most, because she was actually very cute, when she got all huffy and angry. Not that he would ever tell her...mind you. He didn't fancy a stake through the heart) and finally when she was done with fuming they would talk it out.

"Just in case your short term memory failed you, we were just about to make up when that bloody poof called," he said, while he rummaged in his pockets to finally produced a single fag. He lit it with a content grin on his face. Spike blew out the smoke and watched the bluish mist curl and change form with the strange satisfaction of having created something.

"I didn't forget," came the monosyllabic response. "Toss me a cigarette, will you?" Lisa added in an afterthought.

"I thought you didn't smoke," he looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but nevertheless complied with her request. He got up and walked over to her in his trademark stride. His boots came to a halt a few centimetres from her feet. Spike lowered himself to a crouching position, so that they were on eye level.

"Open up," he ordered like one would do with a child which was about to be fed a spoonful of medicine and put the cigarette between her lips. He fumbled with his lighter, then briefly hesitated.

"Please, don't get all moral high ground on me. I've already had my fair share of second-hand-smoke tonight, so I might as well…" her green eyes sparkled at him challengingly.

"I won't," he put away the lighter and flipped his own half smoked cigarette away nonchalantly, as if his gesture meant nothing. "I know what this is really about…" Spike said finally. His eyes fixed her in a severe gaze. At moments like this it sometimes came to her that he was significantly older than her.

"Oh, so you're going to enlighten me otherwise. Go ahead," she put the cigarette behind her ear.

"I haven't said I'm sorry yet. That's what gets you of your hooker, isn't it, pet?"

"Maybe," she avoided his gaze, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

"In other words yes…," he paused, "I want you to look at me when I tell you this, guess that's not that much to ask."

"Alright," she nodded and suddenly felt very fragile, when her eyes met his. Did she mention she loved his eyes? No matter how bad-ass he pretended to be, there was always something in them that let you guess how loving and kind he could be. They sometimes made her melt which was really bad, especially when she was angry at him. He wouldn't have to say anything at all and she would forgiven him, just because he looked at her in a certain way.

"I'm sorry I hurt you by running off without telling you…really am…"

"I know," Lisa sighed, "but still…it's not so much that you did it, but why…"

"You think I did it because of Buffy." She didn't like the way the name rolled from his lips. It sounded as if he had said it many times. Too many.

He laughed self-ironically. "Never thought I'd say it, but I did it because of Angel. I didn't want him to get his happily ever after. First there's this prophecy that says he gets to be a real boy again and then I was supposed to let him rid off into the sunset with Buffy – speaking figuratively, of course. Not that I would mind seeing him light up like a torch…"

"So you're trying to say you did it, because you were jealous of Angel. Funny, but somehow I don't quite believe you," her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"I didn't understand back then," he looked desperate. Maybe he was having trouble expressing himself.

"What the hell didn't you understand? What!" her level of irritation was constantly rising. "That you would hurt me by simply running off without so much as a word? That I'd think that you chose her over me?" By the time the last words escaped her lips she was almost screaming.

She could tell from the expression on his face, that he was now realizing how much he had hurt her by his actions. His eyes briefly widened, displaying a mixture of shock and disbelief and when he spoke his voice sounded softer than usually, "I didn't understand that it is you…not her. I didn't never feel like this with her. Buffy and I…well…we were like two pieces of a puzzle that wouldn't quiet fit together, but were nevertheless pieced together by a sledgehammer. Everything was complicated, painful, slightly surreal and on top of that self-destructive. Funny it took a big bang to make me figure that out, but I usually am little slow on the uptake. I actually lay there in a Roman piazza my body covered in bruises, my duster torn to shreds and all I could think about was how much I missed you...the way I feel when I'm with you..."

Lisa gulped nervously. In the meantime her anger had dissipated, because the way he talked didn't leave any doubts about how serious he meant those things he said. "And how exactly is that?" she finally asked shakily.

He scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly, "If I could find the right words for that I'd actually be a bloody good poet…Oh what the hell! Since I've already started making a fool of myself why not go all the way…," he smiled humourlessly.

"I've always been love's bitch. It's not like it was somebody else's fault, though it would be lovely if I had someone to blame…some mystical higher power…or at least Dru or Buffy…but let's face it, a bloke who always fell hard for the unattainable ones…telltale case…not exactly predestined to find happiness."

"I thought I had it all figured out…hell, I even thought, falling on my ass for a couple of times, would have made me some expert when it came to love, but guess what - it didn't. I had all those ideas about how it was supposed to work in a certain way, screaming in your blood and working its will. Yeah, right!" Spike let out a snort. "Not even close…," his voice lowered and his eyes wandered of pensively. He always liked to think that he had his way with words, but at this time they failed him. He was still wrecking his head about what to say, when he heard her speak.

"You just know when it happens," Lisa said softly, ripping him out of his thoughts. "You know when you're being loved, because there's this comfort, this feeling of belonging somewhere, of being understood…and at the same time the knowledge of how fragile this all is. That it could it end all too soon and hurt like you never imagined."

"Yes, and you know, when it's real."

"Do you?" she cocked her head and looked at him. Her eyes had a gentle sparkle in them, friendly…patient.

"Yes, I know that this is what I always wanted," his voice sounded hoarse.

"Good," she smiled at him in relief and he couldn't help, but mirror her expression. Nevertheless the situation was slightly awkward. It had been a long time since he felt unsure of himself, because his characteristic cockiness was usually quick to kick in. Not this time. It seemed so long since they last kissed, but he couldn't just do it…maybe it would be too bold a move…too soon. In some ways it was like starting all over again.

Lisa saw the pensive frown on his face and could instantly tell that he was probably thinking about what to do next. This was so unlike of him, but she understood he wanted to do everything right this time. She decided to deliver him from this feeling of uncertainty and took his hand. Almost instantly her fingers entwined with his like they had done so many times before. They did it as if out of their own accord, craving the touch of his hand that was so comforting and familiar. As she slowly pulled him close she could see a mixture of surprise and happiness on his face.

"To make up probably you'd have to kiss me first," Lisa smiled at him teasingly, her face now so close to his that their noses almost touched.

Before he closed the distance between them, he gave her the sort of grin that was so characteristic of him, sexy and yet boyish. It never failed to make her skin tingle. They kissed passionately, with a hunger that had been kindled by the time of abstinence. Their lips met and separated again and again, welcoming, teasing, maddening. Her hands wandered over his back to his shoulders. She pulled him yet closer, while her lips parted to let him in. Hot met cool, soft caresses, an ancient dance that was never over.

The loud banging against the door brought them back to the present. It had increased in intervals and had also gotten more vehement. They broke apart and looked at the door in alarm. The two crosses that had up to now served as makeshift doorstoppers were starting to shift - slowly, but yet unstoppably.


	8. Barbecue

"Bollocks!" Spike quickly got to his feet and grabbed the sword he had discarded on the floor earlier.

"Guess we won't be able to wait until the cavalry comes to the rescue," Lisa sighed, fully aware of the seriousness of the situation. They were outnumbered and nearly unarmed, which of course meant as good as dead. She looked around for something to use as a weapon, her gaze settled on the two torches which were merrily flickering in their holdings on the wall. Lisa marched over and took them, looking somewhat unsure about what to do with them.

"We're gonna die, aren't we?" she looked helplessly from the door to Spike.

"Not if I can help it," he had slipped on his game face and raised his sword to strike. "We have to try to keep them from entering the room, if they get inside we're buggered."

"Okay," Lisa tightened her grip on the torches.

The door finally gave away, the crosses skidded over the floor with what seemed to be a long stretched cry, produced by the sound of metal grinding on stone. A clawed arm reached inside, emphasizing the eagerness with which the ghouls tried to get to them. Spike stepped forward with a growl and severed the arm with a quick blow of his sword. A loud howl could be heard from outside, then the assault on the door grew more violent. Finally the door swung open and clattered against the wall with a loud bang. The first creature already tried to storm inside. Its attempt to enter the mausoleum was cut short as Spike's weapon severed his head from his body. One down nine more to go.

Four others stormed at Spike who bravely held his own. The blond vampire moved with swiftness and efficiency. Whenever the ghouls made a clumsy attempt of hitting him, he simply dived underneath their blows. He used the advantage of his crouched position to kick at their legs thereby brought one of the ghouls to fall. It stumbled and quickly joined its comrade in death. Unfortunately the moment Spike beheaded the ghoul; he was hit on the back and went down. The beasts were slowly closing in on him. Saliva was dripping from their half-open mouth.

Lisa had never felt a rage like that. She was usually a very calm person, when it came to dealing with problems of everyday life. Now her anger was fuelled by her desire to protect her loved one, by her unwillingness to surrender. With a primal battle cry she ran towards the ghouls, brandishing her torches menacingly. The creatures were absolutely unimpressed by her attack. They didn't see her as a threat, solely as food, which was a fatal misconception. Lisa rammed the torch right into the face of the creature that stood closest to Spike. There was a loud hiss, when the flame smouldered its skin and the stench of burned skin filled the air. The creature retreated with a pitiful shriek, aimlessly thrashing around with its arms. It knocked the torch right out of Lisa's hand, which was not a grave loss, because it had already been extinguished as she had tried to barbecue the ghoul. The creature collapsed on the floor where it stayed, squirming and whimpering pitifully.

"Get up!" Lisa shouted at Spike, while she tried to keep the other monsters at bay with her remaining torch.

The blond vampire quickly got to his feet looking for his sword he had lost somewhere along the fight. It had skittered over the floor to the opposite side of the room and was therefore out of reach. Then his eyes fell on the metal cross at his feet. Lisa threw him a brief glance and it immediately dawned on her what he was up to.

"You have to be kidding me," she hissed at him.

"I'm going to hell anyway," he gave her a smug grin and picked up the cross. His hand closed tightly around it. Immediately smock rose from where his skin came into touch with the metal and the hiss of burning flesh resounded in Lisa's ears. Spike didn't even wince. He held the cross like a baseball bat and waited for the first ghoul to come closer. When it did, he hit it on the head with the sharp edge of the cross. The impact crushed the creatures skull. Unfortunately the fact that Spike was distracted with killing one of the ghouls, allowed the others to enter the crypt.

Like a wolf one of the ghouls jumped on Spike and sank his teeth into his left shoulder. He screamed in agony and went down under the impact of the body weight of his attacker. Five more…Lisa's shocked mind registered erratically…the other one is snacking on your boyfriend. She threw the torch in the general direction of the glowering creatures – it would distract them for a couple of seconds. They were very much afraid of fire since they had seen what had done to their comrade and probably wouldn't dare to come near it for a couple of seconds, which would buy them precious time. Lisa hurried over to Spike who was currently trying to pry the ghoul away from his shoulder. It felt like her heart was beating inside her skull, still she continued to sneak closer. The monster had its back to her, so she had the advantage of surprise on her side, at least that was what she was trying to tell herself, though she clearly had to be suicidal to go through with her plan.

Now or never. Lisa firmly griped the things shoulders and started saying the incantation. It took her quite some effort to pull herself together so she could remember the right words, "_You're no longer hunting, lie down to rest. You're no longer hungry, lie down to rest. You've become the pray, surrender and rest._" It briefly struggled against being sent back to into the darkness it came from, but the magic was too powerful and so it had to relent. Its suddenly inanimate form fell to the floor lifelessly. Lisa exhaled in relief, so much for that. They were still alive. Five more….five more! She felt herself panic.

"Spike? Are you okay?" Lisa asked in a shaky voice, never leaving the remaining ghouls out of sight.

"I'm fine, love. Bit of more than it could swallow I guess," he tried to seem cocky, but she could tell he was just faking it by the way he moved, when he got to his feet. There was a certain hesitation in his movements, the way he avoided to move his left arm displayed a huge amount of cautiousness which was probably due to his wound. The wound…it looked like the ghoul had indeed taken a huge bite. A preoccupied look flitted over Lisa's face, but she couldn't allow herself to delve into those feelings now. They were still surrounded by five ghouls who eyed them as if they were a delicious turkey dinner. With slurping steps they were starting to close in on them.

Spike protectively stepped in front of her. "We're not going to die in here," he told her reassuringly.

"Let's hope so," she grabbed his hand, "I hate to do this, but this may be the only way to get out of here alive. I'm going to try something….You have to trust me, okay?" Lisa whispered in his ear.

She could feel his back tense against her, but nevertheless he nodded. Spike could imagine what she was up to. There were very few things she was afraid of, one of them was having to resort to using the dark arts. It was true she was a necromancer, but Lisa rarely ever used spells to raise the dead or even control them. Her main objective was restoring the balance, whenever it was shifted; sending zombies back to their grave, banishing ghosts, that was what she did. Thanks to her history she wasn't ready to do anything more. It was her way of atoning for what she had done in her youth. Back in her teenage years she had recklessly used her powers, raised the dead only because she could. The consequences had never occurred to her. Now that was very much different.

"I trust you, but whatever you're going to do, you better do it fast, love," Spike finally whispered back.

At first he felt nothing, but then the palm of his hand started getting warmer and warmer. Slowly the feeling started to extent from his hand all the way up his arm, then it spread through his entire body. The skin around his wounded shoulder started prickling. He looked in amazement at the wound that literally started closing before his eyes. There was that faint whispering in his ears…a female voice? Even with his advanced vampire hearing he couldn't make out what she was saying. Though judging from rhythm of her voice one could tell she was agitated. He could no longer focus on it, as a strange sensation took a hold of him, a mixture of power and ecstasy, like he had experienced only one time, when he had fed of the slayer he killed during the Boxer Rebellion. This superb rapture made him feel like he could take on anybody at the moment, slaying those five ghouls with his bare hands didn't seem like much of a problem anymore.

He let go of Lisa's hand and advanced on the ghouls with a devious smirk. He was going to teach them a lesson. He tossed the first one aside like a rag doll. It crashed against the wall, then lay completely still. His grin broadened and eerie laughter rang from his throat. The next creature was just as easily discarded, with a quick movement Spike twisted his head. Its spine broke with a nasty crack and the spark in its eyes was immediately extinguished. Three were left - a pity because he was just beginning to get warmed up (of course, figuratively speaking)

Was that fear in their eyes? Maybe even they weren't too stupid to understand that they would die in a few seconds. A new surge of energy rushed through his veins; it made him feel positively ecstatic. His game face slipped on almost automatically, and then the next thing he remembered was standing over the slain corpses of the last remaining ghouls, severed limps everywhere. A sticky dark red substance covered his hands, coagulated blood, which was not his own. His left hand held onto something heavy and as he looked down he recognized it as a ripped off arm. Spike let it fall somewhat disgustedly, kicked it away with his foot and then wiped his dirty hands on his trouser legs.

After he had overcome his initial disorientation, his thoughts immediately returned to Lisa. His preoccupation for her grew deeper, when he found her lying in the middle of the floor. She didn't look well. Sweat was glistening on her forehead, her breathing was very elaborate. Her skin possessed an unnatural paleness. Only when she felt his hand softly brush her cheek she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Juiced you up like one of those fluffy little bunny that keeps on going and going, didn't I?" she said with a frail voice, which didn't lack a certain amount of pride.

"How did you do it?" he asked, although it was already dawning on him how she had managed this.

"I gave you some of my life force," she saw his look of shock and disapproval and hurried to add, "Jeez, not all of it mind you. Just the rest of this day. No worries, I'm not gonna die on you."

"Gave me a pretty good scare," he told her sternly, still somewhat miffed she had endangered herself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. If this is any consolation to you, I'm not planning on ever doing it again," Lisa struggled to get to her feet, but immediately felt dizzy, so she gave up trying.

"Let me help you," Spike offered. He bent down to lift her up. Hesitantly she laid her arms around his neck. The comforting and familiar scent of cigarettes, leather, smoke and cologne invaded her nostrils. He picked her up, which felt slightly awkward at first, because she wasn't used to be carried around like some helpless damsel in distress, but after a few seconds she actually had to admit that it felt very nice. She nuzzled her head comfortably against his shoulder.

"I think I'm beginning to understand why chicks dick the whole knight-in-shiny-armour thing," she smiled at him tiredly. "I could get used to this."

"Suppose I should do this more often then," he answered with a smirk, while he carried her outside, kicking a severed ghoul arm out of the way in the process.

"Do you think it would be absolutely over the top if you carried me to work like this every morning?"

"Maybe just a tad bit."

"Thought so," Lisa stifled a yawn and snuggled closer, slowly lulled to sleep by the steady rocking motion produced by his step. When it suddenly stopped, she blinkingly opened her eyes, ready to protest. They stood in front her parked car. Her eyes became heavy again and she had to struggle to keep them open.

"Jacket, left pocket," Lisa mumbled drowsily. Everything seemed to be surrounded by a haze that made contours appear less sharp and sounds a little bit softer.

She vaguely registered him fumbling with the keys as he clumsily tried to open the door one-handedly. Spike finally succeeded, but when he carefully put her down on the seat he pumped his head against the car roof in the process. So much for stealth! "Bugger," he muttered, briefly rubbing the back of his head. Then he bent over to fasten her seat belt. When he moved back, he noticed to his surprise that Lisa's eyes were open and she was looking at him with a dorky smile on her face. "I love you," she told him with a voice softened by sleep and emotion.

"Love you, too, pet," he told her with a tender smile, "Now go back to sleep. I'll take care of you." He gently kissed her on the forehead, then closed the door and walk around the car to sit down in the driver's seat.

"Guess, you're one lucky guy, now that you're finally the one driving," Lisa said groggily, right when he was about to turn the keys in the ignition.

"Right, I've been waiting for this day a long time," he told her jokingly and started the engine.

"I know your track record with cars. When I wake up and you've managed to get this one wrapped around some tree trunk, there will be hell to pay," she muttered, trying to sound menacing, which was kind of hard when you just were about to fall asleep.


End file.
